A New Way of Life
by Kitera-Matar
Summary: This is after Aragorn finds out who he is and goes into the wild and some thing that happen while he tries to rectify with Estel and Arwen within himeself . NEW CHAP 4 This is my first story, Please review!
1. The Herb

A New Way of Life  
  
Chapter 1: The Herb  
  
Disclaimer: Well you probably know the rigmarole (story), but I'll say it anyway. most of the places, people, or things in this story come form Lord of the Rings. They are J. R. R. Tolkien's and not mine.  
  
Background: For those of you who don't know or forgot or whatever, here is a little basic background for my story. Arathorn II, Aragorn's dad was killed when Aragorn was only two. His mother, Gilraen, took Aragorn to Rivendell (Imladris) for protection. Elrond agreed to take Aragorn in as a foster-child and called him Estel (elvish for Hope) and hid his past, name, and history from him; and thus the outside world, where Sauron was looking for any with the Numenorean Kings blood. For 18 years he lived in ignorance but when he reached 20, three things happened. One: Elrond told him his true name, linage, and past, and gave him the shards of Narsil and the ring of Barahir. Two: Aragorn met Arwen, who has just come from Lorien (Lothlorien) where her mother's folk dwell. Three: Aragorn goes out into the wild. This is where my story starts.  
  
Note: I may have gotten some facts wrong, and if I did, and you notice, please tell me and I will try to change it A.S.A.P. (as soon as possible). Oh, yeah, and thoughts are in italics.  
  
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Aragorn, Aragorn? As a lonesome man walked along, his head swung to and fro, automatically checking everything and automatically trying to be quiet, in which he succeeded very well in, better than most people. But his face did not show his pride; it showed his confusion and desperation to come to grips with reality. He looked at his two hands, his left hand, Estel, foster-son of Elrond, master of Rivendell? And his right hand, which bore the ring of Barahir upon his ring finger, Aragorn, son of Arathorn, descended in direct line from the greatest of Numenoren Kings? Who am I? His thoughts turned dark yet again as he dispiritedly put his hands down at his side. But his right hand found there another reminder of his parting with Rivendell, Narsil. The broken sword that had killed Sauron, the sword that was broken, in a sword sheath, at his side! At Estel's side! He thought with pride, then his pride quickly down spiraled back into loss. No, no, Aragorn's side.. He felt a loss for his innocence, and an easy past. Suddenly he looked up, the sky was growing dark and he realized as his belly growled at him angrily that he had not eaten all day.  
  
He shot a rabbit and gathered some herbs for a stew. As he picked some wild carrots, he accidentally picked some wild, blue flowers with the white, lacelike flower of the carrot. He was about to throw away the blue- flowered weed but stopped. Something in him called to it and it to him. He did not understand it but cut some more pieces and carried them back to his makeshift camp to study. As he stirred the stew over the fire with his right hand he flipped over the leaves and flowers of the plant with his left hand. He wondered, his brows furrowing in concentration. He felt as if he was reaching for something in the dark he knew should be there but it was just out of reach.  
  
All of the sudden, his finger slipped, and he crushed several leaves and flowers as they slipped into the pot. Cursing he dug around in the hot water for the plant, spilling some into the fire by accident, which only caused his curses to go louder and more angrier. I hope this isn't poisonous and messes up my stew! He finally managed to dig out most of the flowers but I was a hopeless case to dig out the leaves amongst all the other herbs. But his mind was brought screaming back to the present when he smelled the sweetened air and he realized his worries of who he was, where he was going to go, and what about tomorrow, weren't as pressing now, his burden had been lifted slightly, but noticeably. He double-checked himself, then looked thoughtfully at the stew, then smiled and laughed,  
  
"I don't know what you are little flower, but I have never heard of you before. So I will take you on my way in case someone else does." He stirred the pot one more time then quickly went back to where he had first found the plant, and cut off more leaves and flowers. After a second thought he gathered some seeds as well, Can't hurt. He want back and carefully rolled the seeds, leaves, and flowers in an old tunic and tucked it carefully in his pack.  
  
He then ate his stew, he was half surprised to feel himself feeling better, stronger, more determined. He didn't know what was out there, but he was going to find out.  
  
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That's it. Next he meets people, he doesn't just talk to himself, promise! Well, Please review, I don't know if I should go on or if I am any good at all, thanks for reading!  
  
~Kit ;) 


	2. The Awakening

A New Way of Life  
  
Chapter 2: The Awakening  
  
Disclaimer: See chapter 1.  
  
Note: I may have gotten some facts wrong, and if I did, and you notice, please tell me and I will try to change it A.S.A.P. (as soon as possible). Oh, yeah, and thoughts are in italics.  
  
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Aragorn slept unusually well, it must have been the little flower stew. Sleep came more easily and peacefully settled on him. He only woke up a few times, him mind telling him he had had a nightmare. And the tossed cloaks he used as blankets and the sweat on his forehead and the soaked tunic he used for a pillow confirmed this.  
  
Yet, most of the dreams were good, yet bittersweet. He dreamed of when he had first seen Arwen Undomiel. It was the day after his Awakening, as he tended to call the day that Elrond told him of himself. He had been walking in the trees happy, and hopeful in that bright cheery place. He had hopes of kingship, of peace, and of justice. He had not known then what it would take to get those and how hard people distrusted those they got. For most of the time they were a trick, as he himself had found out the hard way. He had been singing of the Beren and Luthien Tinuviel. Yet his heart was not touched by the sadness of the tale. He sand of the dark- haired, and thus rare, beautiful elf maiden, Luthien and of Beren, a man of Numenoren. The two had fallen in love and when Beren died, the world lost the beauty and gayety of Luthien, who died of a broken heart for the death of her lover. Then she was there.  
  
Her hair was dark as night, yet shimmered in the breeze, the lights playing across it like the stars winking out of the sky. Her dress was of silver and blue and on her brow there rested a crown of gems that were as bright as polestars. She turned and he felt his breath catch from the beauty and grace of her face. In it there was beauty, peace, and love. Yet also wisdom resided there, wisdom that came from ages of living and learning. He had thought that Luthien, in all her majesty had come back, but he now knew that it was Arwen Undomiel, the daughter or Elrond, and fairest of all elves. Fearing that she might fade away, he ran and called to her "Evenstar! Evenstar!" Yet no matter how much he ran or called, he could not reach her.  
  
Finally he stopped and so did she although he could not remember seeing her move. "Aragorn," was the one word she spoke and she leaned towards him reaching out her hand, in it was the little flower. "It is your gift, use it and keep it well," with that she dropped the flower into his outstretched hand. When he looked into her face, the tears in his eyes blurred the vision of her and she became Gilraen, his mother, "Take care Aragorn, my son, look deep in to yourself to find where you should be," and with a final smile, she turned and glided away. "Arwen! Gilraen!" he called out trying to stretch his hand out further for the two women he loves most in this world. The last he saw of the woman was when she turned and he saw the tear-stained face of Arwen, it was how she had looked when he caught sight of her from her room window as he left Rivendell, to go into the wild. But he finally closed his hand and pulled it to his body, carefully cradling the beloved flower. And calling out sadly and softly, "Gilraen. Arwen." He then woke up.  
  
He sat up and put his head in his hands and put them between his knees; he wept bitter tears, for the lady he loved and could not love unless he became king, and even then only if she truly loved him. At first, in Rivendell, he hade hopes and was optimistic, but now. His eyes had opened. Before whenever he journeyed out of Rivendell, he had been under careful watch by elves, who were NEVER slacking. Then he had left Rivendell, for when he was around Arwen it caused him so much joy and love, yet to hold back caused pain. Suddenly, he realized that one of the little flowers was in his hands, and he was not sure how it got there. He gazed at the silver and green small leaves and of the small blue flowers on it. He carefully wrapped this one in a rag and put it beneath his tunic, next to his heart.  
  
He started to clean up when he stopped shock still, leaning over his 'bed' to collect his cloak.  
  
He heard the laughter and giggles of children.  
  
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Sorry, You have to wait. Next time he actually meets some people, REALLY!  
  
~Kit ;) 


	3. The Children

A New Way of Life  
  
Chapter 3: The Children  
  
Disclaimer: see chapter 1.  
  
Note: I may have gotten some facts wrong, and if I did, and you notice, please tell me and I will try to change it A.S.A.P. (as soon as possible). Oh, yeah, and thoughts are in italics.  
  
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Aragorn quickly stood up and quietly and swiftly drew on his cloak and packed the rest of what he had to put away quickly. He put it under a bush and covered what little you could see of the pack of fallen branches and old leaves. Then as smooth and silent as a hot knife through butter he moved though the woods towards the laughter.  
  
He hid behind a great oak, and peeked his head around the trees to see what was going on. A boy of perhaps 10, a girl of 6 maybe, and a small girl about 2 years old were playing at the edge of the woods. They were on the top of a hill that sloped down into a green pasture with sheep dotting the hill and the plain. The field ran into the fork of the River Running flowing down to the Sea of Rhun. A small village of perhaps 15 houses or so was by the river with a small dock where all boats were out on the river. From the shepard staffs the two older children were banging together like swords while the little one clapped and cheered on their names.  
  
* * *  
  
"Go Alda!" Alda concentrated, biting the tip of her tongue, and yet not realized it. She swung her staff down and to the right, but Mar had already brought his down to block hers Suddenly, Alda gave a wolfish grin and switched the way the crook at the top was facing, and yanked. Mar yelped as he came tumbling down. She had caught him in his one weakness, locking his knees. He always did it and thus couldn't move very fast, so he had become more of a defender, and less of an attacker. She had hit and pulled the cook of the staff at the back of his knee and now he sprawled face up, and his knees under him his staff flung out of reach. She put one foot on his chest and one beside his body. She put the crook under his chin as if it was a sword and snarled, "Surrender, or lose your life."  
  
But she couldn't suppress back a laugh that came bubbling out of her, "Or do my chores, your choice." Mar growled, "I'm 4 years older, and yet you beat me most of the time! Fine, I'll do your chores," he agreed sullenly to her patiently waiting face. She stepped off him and started to walk away, but Mar leaped up and grabbed his staff, and lunged. But Alda had turned and slid the straight part of her staff into his crook and pulled. The staff went flying, again.  
  
But Alda's scathing reply to his attack stopped on her tongue as she went stock-still. Mar seeing her face also stopped as did Tana, their younger sister, then they heard the second rustling. And out of the woods stepped a man. He was dark, tall, and lean. He wore a sword, a hunting knife, bow, arrows, a cloak, and the ready look of a fighter. He clapped his gloved hands together, stared Alda in the eyes, and spoke in a deep tone that was light with merriment, "Very good child."  
  
* * *  
  
As Aragorn stepped out from the wood, his experienced eyes saw that the girl stopped at the first sound of rustling and the other two stopped when she did. He applauded their good staff fight and looking into the girl called Alda's clear gray eyes, said "Very good child." He was impressed at her responses and hearing, but it was the boy who spoke first, "Who are you?' his voice wobbled a bit but he got the words out without stammering. "A friend who needs a bed and some hot food, preferably bread if you have any, and I haven't had any I weeks," he told them, "I will pay," he quickly assured them. He quickly sized up the characteristics of the group.  
  
Alda was the fighter and watcher. She had quick reflexes and even quicker ears, eyes, mind, and tongue. She's like an elf with all she can do, he thought wondrously. Mar was the defender, the strength, and the collaborator, but he listened to Alda's quick mind, and the little child's intuitiveness of who was good and bad. He has an air about him, what is it? The little girl must be the runner and the encourager. She looked like one who enjoys running for the sheer joy of running. He was sure the others could out run her, the girl with swiftness, and the boy with endurance. With her slight figure and slim face, and straight blonde hair, she could pass as an elven child at a distance. But all of then have something about them that is familiar, I just can't put my finger on it.  
  
His thoughts were all confirmed when the boy studied him then turned to Alda, she had been studying him since he first came into view and her silted eyes finally widened somewhat. When Mar looked at her she nodded, never taking her eyes off him, and he looked at the little one and said, "Tana, ask Ade." Tana took off running down the hill they were on and across the plain to the small village and entered a house when the chimney was billowing up smoke.  
  
"Where do you come from? And what are you called?" Alda asked, her staff was still leveled in Aragorn's direction from jerking Mar's staff out of his hand. "I come from many places, and am called many things," he answered ambiguously to her derision. "Fine, where did you come form LAST, and what is one name we can call you?" she clarified. "From Esgaroth, two weeks ag-" "Esgaroth!" Mar interrupted, "but that is a month long journey!" "To some," the stranger answered vaguely. "Name," the girl stated again. "You choose," he told her, her eyes narrowed again, but the edges of her lips turned up in a slight smile, "Strider." Aragorn laughed, "A good name Alda." "You listened," she stated as her lips turned down once more. "Well you weren't exactly trying to hide who you all are, now were you?"  
  
After several tense moments in which the two had a stare down, and Mar picked up his staff, she straightened up and lifted her staff. "I'm Aldarida, or Alda. He's Marroc, or Mar," she nodded to the older boy. He obviously trusted her judgment, because he didn't stop her, although his lips tightened. The little girl that just left is our younger sister, Taniaiel, or.-" "Tana," He filled in with a grin. She smiled too, "she is asking Adelard, or Ade our older sister. I'm 6, he's 10, Tana's 2, and Ade is 18." "She now stopped and looked pointedly at him her face betraying no emotion except calm patience. "Strider," he said simply, holding his head high and said nothing more on that subject to her ever again.  
  
Then two people came out of the house. One stood there and waited, the other had burst out and came running, her legs pumping. When Tana got there, she leaned on her knees breathing hard. "Ada...pant... see... -," she pointed to Aragorn, "You," she nodded at Alda and Mar, "...pant.. here," she pointed down. The three understood her rough-cut sentences and obeyed. Aragorn said simply, "my things," and whirled around and walked silently off.  
  
* * *  
  
"Tana, you got your knife?" Alda leaned down and whispered to her sister. Tana simply nodded, still, panting. "If he tries anything on you, cut him and cut him good," she continued to whisper. Tana looked scared, and her eyes widened, but nodded again. Alda then stood up and stared off the way the stranger had came and left. "Well Alda?" her brother asked her. "He's a fighter and his clothes are patched and frayed, what more need I say? He's deadly and he may be desperate, I don't know, but better safe than sorry." "But-" he prompted her, for he could see there was more she wasn't saying, "But for some reason, I want to help him and understand him," she looked confused at her own response and emotions. "Well, we'll try, you're instincts have always helped so far Alda, we'll trust them now." He put a hand on her shoulder and she seemed to take comfort in his support. And then she stood tall and said, "Well, here he comes, Tana tell Ade I trust him, AFTER she gets a good look at him and talks to him."  
  
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Well, I hope you like it, if any one knows a lot about the Numenorean people, I would appreciate it if I could e-mail you and ask you a question, I haven't read the Similarion yet, and I need reference from there before I put up my next chapter. Thanks!  
  
~Kit ;) 


	4. Ade, Blobs, and Home

A New Way of Life  
  
Chapter 4: Ade, blobs and home.  
  
Disclaimer: see chapter 1.  
  
Note(s): I may have gotten some facts wrong, and if I did, and you notice, please tell me and I will try to change it A.S.A.P. (as soon as possible). Oh, yeah, and thoughts are in italics.  
  
Thanks to Loquacious for the information on the Dunedain and Numenoreans. I promise I will use the info. Thanks again!  
  
I originally put this story down as Aragorn/Arwen, action/adventure/romance, but just so you know it will change as I go (If you haven't figured that out from reading the first 3 chapters). There is little romance and Arwen in here, and I put them down, because they are major characters/themes, and are in here.  
  
Oh, and Aragorn is 20 and a half in this. It's rated PG-13 for Aragorn's thought's in this one. I will tend to overestimate the censor rather than underestimate, I am not trying to lead anyone on. The censor grade will change as the story moves on.  
  
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As Aragorn walked back through the forest to the edge where the children waited for him, his clear gray eyes flicked between all of them, noticing all their stances and expressions.  
  
Marroc stood tall and didn't shift his weight from foot to foot nervously and held his head up proudly waiting patiently. But the very slight wrinkles on his forehead told Aragorn he was worried.  
  
Aldarida stood balanced on the balls of her feet, as if she was a deer, ready to string at the first sign of danger. But from the way she held her right hand near the knife at her belt, and the left hand out, probably has a slip wrist knife hidden up there in her sleeve, he bet she would spring towards the danger and not away as a deer would. But her face was neutral, betraying no signs what so ever of her feelings; be they anxious, angry, deadly, or anything else. Yet she too held herself proudly, making him do a double take between Mar and Alda, their bearing was the same, hmmmm...  
  
But the little one, Taniaiel, she was easiest to read. Her wide eyes, open mouth, and a hand placed hesitatingly near her waist, where the handle of a dagger just peaked out, showed him that one of them, Alda probably told her to cut first and ask later if he tried anything. Yet again, even she too held her chin up as she still leaned on her knees her breath finally calming from the climb up the hill.  
  
"I am ready, and thank you for your kindness," he told them politely when he reached the edge of the woods. "Just don't try anything," Alda said, staring him straight in the eyes. Gray met gray, clam star-silver met boiling silver. Mar shot her a look that plainly told her to be polite, which she ignored completely, and he quickly replied, "Your welcome, I hope we can help you," he pointed to Tana and said, "Follow Tana, she show you our house and introduce you to Ade." With a nod of thanks and acceptance, Aragorn broke the stare-down followed the girl down the hill, but he could feel the angry silver eyes boring into his back.  
  
The 2-year-old sprang down the hill. The solemnity of the moment was forgotten as she felt the wind rush past her ears and eyes and whip her clothes. She pushed with all her might to go faster, faster still, and even FASTER! But she suddenly collapsed into a heap of limbs and clothes. Aragorn, who had been walking down the hill, sure the girl would wait and catch her breath at the bottom, came down slowly. As soon as he saw her fall from swift momentum to a halting stop and crumple on the ground he gave up all walking and ran. He rushed down the hill to her to see how she was.  
  
He stopped and leaned over her crumpled form to look at her and jerked back quickly as a chubby fist slashed out with a dagger. "Stop! Stop!" he shouted as he dodged her flailing fist. He reached in and grabbed the fist and quickly removed the small dagger, and quickly suppressed a smile. He shoved the dagger in the ground next to Tana and tried to reassure her, "Look, I'm not going to hurt you, just let me look at your foot." For during the dodging and shouting he had managed to get a look at why she fell. Her foot was caught in a rabbit's hole. He looked anxiously at her face to try and discover anything of her feelings. He saw trepidation to let him look at her foot and whiteness at how much it hurt. Finally she nodded and pulled back the edge of her dress so he could see. He gently dug out around the foot and pulled it out slowly. Even with his best efforts Tana face went even whiter with pain, but she didn't cry, whimper, or make any noise.  
  
Just as he was lightly touching her foot to see, Mar and Alda came running down. "What happened?" Mar asked his face wrinkled in worry, arms immediately flying to his smallest sister who still sat on the ground. Alda's slightly larger eyes, a slight crease in her forehead, and tightening of her lips were only Aragorn's warnings of her apprehension. "She fell into a hole as she came down, twisted her ankle." He stated as he finished his probing search, still holding her ankle as he knelt in the grass before her. Mar's brow furrowed more as he thought then finally said, "We can't leave the flocks to show you which house is ours. It's the one with smoke coming out of the chimney, that's connected to the smithy. Tana can help you if your not sure." He pointed out the house to Aragorn.  
  
Alda's lips tightened more when she realized what must be done. "You must carry her Strider. But if anything happens to her, I will hunt you down and deal with you," her face grew taught with the deliverance of the threat. Aragorn simply nodded, his face and eyes calm and certain, and gently picked the little girl up in his arms.  
  
He walked across the green meadow and into village as Mar and Alda walked back up the hill to their post. Aragorn carried the girl down the street, looking at the different houses as he went. On house had a boat carving over the door. It's probably a boat builder. And the one with a picture of a leaping fish over it he wasn't sure of. But as he passed the open door and smelled and saw candles, fish, fruits, vegetables, knives, and other odds and ends and useful things, he realized what it was, a general store, or something like that. And the mill was a mill, no picture needed, the loaf of bread a baker's, and the anvil a smithy. But he didn't know was one place was. It had a lump of something that looked like wet sand over the doorway.  
  
He knocked on the doorway of the house connected to the smithy and waited. A young woman opened the door. Alda had said Ade was 18. What she forgot to mention was that she was very pretty. She wore a leather smock that had burns all over it and the sleeves on her thick woolen shirt were pushed up. She had sweat on her brow and her waist length black hair was held back in a ponytail. But her round face had high cheekbones, her lips were red and round, and her brown eyes were clear and bright. As soon as she saw Tana in Aragorn's arms she gave the child a quick look over, saw the red, dirt- covered, bare, right foot and immediately open the door all the way for him to walk in.  
  
"Set her down here," Her pleasing voice was edged in roughness. Pain? Worry? Or just horse from working in the forge? She pointed to a bed on one side of the open room.  
  
The room had a hearth to the door's left with a table across from banked fire. On the door's right side were 4 beds. A large, rough trunk was directly across from the door and some stools and chairs were placed around the room. As was a vase of flowers, slightly wilting and a worn piece of blue cloth on the table, scrubbed clean and worn age and with scrubbing from spills that hadn't totally come out of it. Some cupboards and shelves were scattered around the room, filled with nick-knacks and useful items. A closed door on the room's north side, the side between the hearth and the table, led to what Aragorn guessed was the smithy.  
  
Aragorn gently placed Tana on a bed one in from the left side, the side opposite the door. Ade, noticing his roving eyes and calculating look, said simply, "It's home," and shrugged, then got back to the subject, "What happened to Tana? You must be the stranger." It wasn't a question, he noticed wryly.  
  
"She was running down the hill and fell into a rabbit hole. I think she twisted her ankle." He watched her get out water and a cloth to wipe off Tana's foot.  
  
"Twisted? What's your name?" She seems to have no problems holding two conversations.  
  
"The ankle probably twisted when she fell. The ankle will swell and be sore but will heal in a few days. Strider." He answered mater of factly.  
  
"I know what a twisted ankle is," I'm 18 and the oldest of-" here she hesitated slightly her irritated face changing into sorrow, into neutrality, "-four and know what a twisted ankle is, from first-hand- experience and from bandaging many of them. Why Strider?"  
  
"I came from Esgaroth, two weeks ago and Alda named me Strider." I want to ask her about her family. Why did she hesitate when she said four? I probably shouldn't, I am a guest her- "Four, no more no less?" Why can't I even keep my own tongue? Oh well. But my, she thinks on her feet and has a quick tongue when it comes to asking, lets see if it's just as fast asking.  
  
"It's a long story. And one we have buried." Her brown eyes where hard as she looked at him from her sister, plainly telling him end-of-story. "I can see why. Two weeks," she whistled with appreciation. She put away the cloth and water and went over to the chest and dug around in it. She came out with a long strip of fabric and started to wind it around Tana's ankle and tucked the end tightly into the folds of the wrappings.  
  
She then proceeded to pull a worn stick out from under Tana's bed. The stick had a smooth bottom and the top had a notch, as if it came form a tree. The notch end was wrapped in more rags. "Go sit by the stream and soak you foot so it doesn't swell so badly. And Tana, don't fall in this time. I just want our foot cold not your whole body." Tana swung her feet off the bed, sat on the edge, tucked the stick under her arm and slowly hobbled out the door.  
  
This time Aragorn whistled. "That's one worn crutch, hope the river isn't to far wawy, she looked pretty white." Ade snorted, "She'll live, she once followed Alda and Mar on a camping trip for a whole day on a broken ankle and a twisted wrist." But her shining eyes dimmed and she sighed, "But, yes, it was used so much by-" here she stopped again and sat for a second with a pained look on her face then abruptly switched tracks before Aragorn could ask, and asked him "Are you hungry? Tana said you wanted some hot food and bread." She got up and pulled out some bread wrapped in a rag and a worn ceramic bowl from the cupboards above the table and put them down.  
  
"I have bread and some meat, but I haven't got a soup yet, I normally don't start it 'till later and work on my blacksmithing 'til then. But you could eat, and you look like you need a bath," She wrinkled her nose and laughed at his withering look. "Bath first I think," She got down another item from a shelf. It was the messy lump he had spotted above a doorway. "What is that?" his curiosity getting the better of his annoyance.  
  
"It's a blob," she replied in a monotone voice. But she laughed again at the look of half revulsion half questioning on Aragorn's face. "Sandsoap, a widow in the village heard about it from her cousin up in Esgaroth. It's a mixture of sand and oils from different leaves. All baked or set to dry or something. The woman won't give the recipe to anyone and the only thing we know is that it takes a long time. We have to trade for it. But that is fine with us, she is an old woman with few skills and needs to do something to put bread on her table. Everyone likes her, but no one can afford to just take her in," As she turned the blob over in her hand she suddenly handed it to Aragorn. As their hands met, something flashed in his mind.  
  
It was a memory, no more. He thought, blinking, But why does touching Ade's hand remind me of when I last said goodbye to my mother, Gilraen? I had said goodbye, hugged her, kissed her check and held her hands- Aragorn swallowed -I don't know. And with that he pushed the matter to the side to be delved over later.  
  
Ade's forehead furrowed with curiosity at his faraway look but quickly smoothed her forehead and held her tongue. He is a stranger - he has a right to his own privacy. But there is something in him- I can't place it. Ade closed his fingers about the blob and told him, "I'll get a pair of clothes for you to change into and you can go bathe. I can start washing your clothes, I need a break, when you come back I can wash the rest of your clothes." She said mater-of-factly. "Why don't you give me the clothes in pack now and I can start. I'll show you where to bathe and I'll go to wash you oils cloths." She grinned at his scowling face, "When we come back, I'll also put some soup onto boil for lunch."  
  
Aragorn opened his pack and dug out his clothes. He handed them over to Ade. Then Ade and Aragorn left the house. Ade holding his clothes, and Aragorn holding the borrowed clothes, the sandsoap, and a metal comb that she had made herself, that she had playfully told him, "You need it, please have it, I can make more," and laughed at his sour expression. On the way to the pool she told him that a small stream ran off from the River Running and back into it later on, beyond the village. That fits in with what I remember. A small stream I crossed last night, it had clear, fresh water. But somewhere beyond the woods, and in the middle it had created a small pool about four feet deep at the edges and 5 in the middle. So Aragorn went off to the pool to bathe and Ade went further downstream to wash Aragorn's, or Strider's in her mind, clothes.  
  
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Well, That's it so far. I don't know if you like it - so Review! PLEASEEEEE review!!!! Just go all the way down to the bottom of the page and press that little go button to review. That's all, it's not harrrddd... PLEASE! Tell me what you think.  
  
~Kit ;) 


	5. A Note From Me

A Note From Me  
  
Just want to tell everyone thanks for reviewing! I hope you like it so far. Just so you know, I may be dropping this story, it is rather slow and while I have some ideas for future chapters, they don't seem to be going anywhere. Any encouragement would be helpful (we writers are suckers fro reviews), also any creative person out there with whom I can run my ideas by and hopefully get some feedback and some ideas back would be great! My e-mail is cvstockha@juno.com.  
  
Thanks/Responses to Reviews:  
  
Loquacious- Thanks for the info! I need it for the later chapters to come (hopefully) I'm glad you like it!  
  
Natters- I'm glad you have read all the way through so far! I wanted to introduce athelas and some other things as I go along, It never really says where he first learns about athelas so. But I will try to write some more and put those up soon.  
  
Chocolat Elf- I hope you liked it, I am trying to get people to read my stories so I can get feedback, I hope you keep going on your story, it sounds really good so far! I'm hoping to put up a Sirius thought/flashback story up soon, I need to write it and have some friend proofread it first though, so it may not be up for a while yet.  
  
Andraste- My original plans had included putting the exciting part in after one or two more chapters, I'll see if I can bring it forward. Thanks for reviewing, I'm not sure if I like this fic or not so all the reviews do help.  
  
Hope you liked the story, again, (you must have if your reading this). I hope you'll read my other story (-ies soon hopefully), thanks!  
  
~Kit ;) 


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